Fearfully and Wonderfully made...
Come walk along this shore with me. If you marvel at creation, sometimes cannot find the words for the Masterpiece, the Maker, or the gift of grace given freely to the flawed, but faithful, you are not alone. We are already travelers here, this meeting is not an accident, so, let's walk side by side.
My entire life has been inspired by words. From childhood, libraries were my Aladdin's cave of treasures. I wanted to read it all: first child's Bible to biographies, fiction and plays. The compact language of the poets pulled me to them. Shakespeare, Whitman, Frost, Cummings, Hughes top a long list. I grew up loving the genius of Emily Dickenson. Painfully shy, a recluse, always shrouded in white, she was nothing like me, but her quirky arrangement of words, the music of her slant rhyme, and her topical simplicity -- love, death and wonders of nature, such as the snake that slithers past and chills to the bone, pulled me in, made me want to connect to others with carefully chosen words.
"I am nobody," she wrote. "Who are you?/Are you nobody too?"
Sometimes that's how we feel: "nobody" . . . nobody's.
But I have learned better:
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, my soul knows it very well. Psalm 139: 13-14
I am and you are, somebody. Each of us is unique, "wonderfully made," and shouldn't our life quest be to find out what gifts we are meant to share? Teaching, writing and speaking have led me to this place and time. I write poems, plays and memoir. An unfinished novel awaited my retirement, and it calls now from its dark cocoon in my closet. I draw from a well of adventures and characters (real and imagined), from growing up in Florida and Hawaii, to living in Italy and Turkey, and playing tourist around the world from Samoa to Great Britain.
Now, I work from home. A lifelong teacher, mostly of writing and theatre, I was blessed to know many talented young people, some of whom educated me, and have become friends. While I was raising my babies, I taught prepared childbirth to expectant parents and strode toward the 'eighties as an activist. Feet firmly planted in my platform shoes, knees knocking under my "midi" skirt, I spoke before the medical community, urging them to open delivery room doors to fathers or other caring companions to assist a laboring woman through her baby's birth. They listened to those of us calling for "family-centered maternity care." Doors swung open.
My high school sweetheart and husband of 45 years, was one of the fortunate ones, at my side, to welcome each of our children as they drew first breath in the world. He's still here, as I labor at birthing my writing projects. Best friend, helpmate, sounding board, and best laugh-instigator ever, he marvels with me, that by God's grace, we've raised three amazing people, and enjoy the antics of seven grandchildren.
Passions include travel, theatre, writing, and decorating our nest. It's been a few years, but I would still act the "old lady role" in a community musical, if the right show came along. At my church, I sometimes read God's Word aloud. I enjoy singing praise in full voice -- especially with my car radio.
This is no chance meeting. I am brimming with words I want to share with you. I hope you, too, will stop by often, to visit here, and share your words with me. Let's meander, shall we?